


Percival Graves' Crash Course in Wizardry

by iamalivenow



Series: The Education of Credence Barebone [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Back Kissing, Blow Jobs, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Manipulation, Masturbation, Older Man/Younger Man, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Discovery, Sharing Clothes, some really morally questionable stuff, this is how i show my love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-06 04:51:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8735563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamalivenow/pseuds/iamalivenow
Summary: Percival Graves has a wand in his pocket, a wicked smile, and a promise.Credence needs all of that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to my other story. 
> 
> While most of this is alluded there, it would be violently tonally inconsistent to attach this there, so it gets it's own thing. 
> 
> It's super skeevy so please read the tags. At no point will it be noncon or even dubcon, if it gets to that, but, you know, please read the tags anyway. 
> 
> Fun fact, though, you don't have to read both of them to enjoy either work. 
> 
> ntbt'd

Credence notices the man. 

He doesn't think he's supposed to, the man is certainly trying blend in, but he's not... very good at it. He stares too long, his gaze lingering on Credence instead of the pastor he's standing by. It's a dull sermon, he's heard it before from several pastors in several churches, but Mary Lou wanted him to help. He knew it was an exchange, they got half the donations, the church got free helpers. 

He and Chastity are dressed in their nice clothes, waiting to walk around with the collection plates. The man, he seems wealthy, but who knows, is maybe forty, by his guess. He looks bored out of his mind too, not that Credence is bored, no of course not, not in a church. 

“Amen.” The pastor says and he stands up a bit straighter. “Now remember, give as much as you can. For needy and the hungry among us. For those who can not afford.” 

Credence moves his hands around the metal plate until it sits flat in his arms and moves down the pews. A few people give a lot, someone leaves a five dollar bill, which Credence stares at before moving on as quickly as he can. Most people just leave coins, which doesn't surprise him much. 

The man, when Credence get's to him, smiles. He must imagine it's charming, Credence thinks, but it doesn't seem very genuine. The man pulls out his wallet and Credence stares at all of the paper in it. What must that be like, he wonders. 

“I don't really go to a lot of these sorts of things.” 

“Church?” Credence tears his gaze away from the money when the man chuckles. 

“Not particularly.” The man nods. “How much should I..?” He trails off, and Credence looks back down at the plate. The one five is pressed down by quarters and nickles. 

“How ever much you can, sir.” He says. The man puts down a ten before tucking his wallet back into this coat. 

“Will you do me a favor...?” He waits. Credence realizes he wants Credence's name. 

“Credence, sir.” 

“Credence. What a lovely name.” The smile is back. “Would you meet me outside, afterwards. I have a few questions for you. If it's not a bother.” Credence looks down at the bill and then back at the man. 

“Of course not sir.” He stands and smiles, a hand on Credence's shoulder which makes him flinch, before turning around and walking out of the building. Credence walks down the rest of the pews until moving back to the alter when the church is mostly empty. The money is given to Chastity, he doesn't really care much about that. 

“Credence?” She has her coat and hat on already. He's shuffling into his slowly, a bit confused, dazed maybe? 

“Sorry, what?” 

“Who gave the tenner?” She asks, her hands grasping the envelope. “It wasn't from my pile.” 

“A- A man. The one with the graying hair. He wanted to talk to me.” 

“Then go, go.” She waves him away. Her irritation is thinly veiled. “And tell him about the NSPS. If he can give that much at service, maybe he could be convinced to offer direct donation.” Well that explains the anger. 

“Yeah, of course. Of course.” He nods and leaves the building. 

The man is leaning against a pillar of the building across from the church, a cigarette in his gloves hands. When he blows smoke away he notices Credence walking towards him, and throws it down on the floor. By the time Credence crosses the street the smoke makes it up to his face. 

“Credence.” The man smiles.

“Sir.” 

“Percival Graves.” He extends a hand. Credence shakes it and feels Mr. Graves squeeze it. “I have a few questions, like I said.” 

“Yes, sir. About the- about the sermon, sir?” 

“No, certainly not.”

“I don't- I can't think about what you would want me for then, sir.” He says. The man smiles. It seems more genuine this time.

“It's about your family, in a way.” Of course it is. 

“I'm sorry, sir. I know the NSPS gets in the way sometimes, but-”

“No, no.” The man raises his hand and shakes his head with a laugh. “No, well, yes, they do.” Mr. Graves shakes his head. “About what happened a week ago, in the building you're staying at, Credence.”

Oh. 

About Ms. Goldstein and- and his ma. 

Right. 

“Yes?” 

His back still stings. 

It's hard to think all of a sudden. 

“You're not in trouble, Credence. Not in the slightest.” 

“Sorry, sir.” He mumbles. He can't bring himself to meet the man's eyes. “I didn't tell anyone anything, like I was told too. I did what I was supposed to, I swear, I-”

“Shh, shh.” The man's hand is on Credence's shoulder and he flinches again. Mr. Graves' hand hovers in the air. “You're not at fault, boy, everything's alright.” He places it on Credence's again. He thinks he feels small movement, almost as if Mr. Graves was rubbing. 

“I'm sorry--” Mr. Graves waits for him to calm down. People stare. 

“I don't live to far from here, how about we go and talk there.” 

Credence takes a step back, into the pillar. No where to go now. Every single orphan knows exactly what the answer to that question is. To knee who ever is asking in the groan and then to run. That's how people disappear. But then- Maybe whatever he could do to Credence, what ever it was- 

Maybe it would be better then going home. 

He nods. 

Mr. Graves smiles. It's a different sort of smile. Credence doesn't know what that smile is supposed to mean. He thinks he doesn't want to. 

The walk to his apartment wasn't a long one, at least that wasn't a lie. With the money he had, Credence expected something bigger, but if he lived here alone, and that made more sense, what type of married man- maybe it was different for magic people. It was bigger then anything Credence had, had ever had. 

“It's for work.” Mr. Graves says and Credence turns to look at him. “Close to work, I mean. I like to sleep in, so, a five minute walk to the office is great.” 

“Office?” 

“MACUSA.” Mr. Graves takes his coat off and hangs it on a small hook. “It's the magical government of the US. You do know that Tina was from there, not a free agent, though she acts like it, I suppose.” He extends his hand. Credence takes off his coat. 

“Ms. Goldstein didn't say much, sir.” 

“No, suppose not. But she didn't obliviate you either.” He had heard the other wizards talking about that and then his mother and sister didn't remember anything. 

“Sorry-”

“You don't have to apologize for everything, you know. Tea or coffee?” 

“Sor-” Mr. Graves smiles again. “Tea, please.” 

“You're so polite. But then I suppose you have to be.” The man pulls out a- he's just that forward with it isn't he? The wand swishes through the air and Credence follows Mr. Graves to watch cups leaving cupboards and the kettle filling itself up. It's obscene. 

His mother would have a heart attack. 

Credence sits down at the seat provided. The cup lands it's self in front of him and the kettle pours steaming water into it even though it wasn't on the stove at all. 

“Do you take sugar?” 

“Yes sir.” Two sugar cubes float into the cup and Credence can't do anything but stare. This- when Mary Lou talked about magic it was always this horrific thing, this power unparalleled and it was, he saw, he saw Ms. Goldstein throw his mother around like it was nothing but now-

“I need your help, Credence.” The man sits down next to him with his own cup. “I'm looking for someone. When this whole thing with Tina happened, I was sure this was just one massive fuck up, accidents happen and all that, but- Tina, our Tina has an eye for things. She saw you, didn't she? She didn't obliviate you, because she knew what I knew.” He smiles into his cup and drinks. Credence waits. When no answer comes he drinks from his tea. It's black. 

“Knew what, sir.” He can't take the silence. 

“That you're special, Credence. That you're a special boy. And you are, right?” 

“I don't think so, sir.” And he wasn't, why would he be? 

“No darling, I don't make mistakes.” He smiles. “I know special when I see it. I don't waste my time with anything else.” There's that smile again. “Can you do magic, Credence?” 

“No.” It's short, and sharp, and rehearsed. Crisp and clear and Mr. Graves laughs again. 

“Not spells, boy, just...” He waves his hand in the air. “Little things, accidents. Finding a few coins if you're hungry, or your hair growing longer over night, little things like that, happy accidents.” 

“Maybe?” He can't really think of anything so fantastical that can't be explained away by luck or random chance. 

“Any divine intervention?” 

“No. No.” Other then Ms. Goldstein, he really can't bring himself to think of anything like that. 

“Well, your mother hurts you, doesn't she? Do your cuts ever get better over night? Or maybe feel cool to the touch?” 

Why is he so casual about it. 

“No.” 

“No? Never?” Credence shakes his head. “Are you hurt right now?” Credence nods. His back is one big red welt he doesn't know what to do with. The cool air keeps most of the pain away but he can't sleep on his back. “Where?” 

“My back.” 

“I can help.” The cup is placed on the table quickly. “I can take the pain away, Credence. Let me.” Credence doesn't really know what happens next, but his button down dress shirt is over the chair back and Mr. Graves is behind him. “She does this to you?” His voice is soft. Credence nods. He feels like he's in a free fall right now. Mr. Graves pulls off his glove and Credence flinches away from bare touch. “Stay still.” He says. 

Mr. Graves has big hands, Credence realizes. It sweeps over his back and it hurts it hurts it hurts until Mr. Graves says something under his breathe and the pain disappears. It's like it's pulled out of him, almost immediately, one quick rapid sensation and it feels good, so good, so so so good. He moans with it, for being able to feel his back and not just a wall of ruined meat. 

“Steady there.” Mr. Graves laughs but Credence is euphoric. His hands reach around to touch at the soft, almost new skin there. 

“Thank you!” Credence can't help but laugh, and it's hysterical sure, but when his fingers drag along his back, he doesn't feel any ridges, and aberrations, only the bumps of his spine. It's so- so good. So overwhelmingly good. It's a full body experience, for him. He feels warm and unwound for once. 

“Easy easy.” Mr. Graves smiles at him and watches him look down at his hands. The scars there are gone too, and it's clean! It's new! It's his skin! His own calloused but not broken skin. “Did it hurt that much?” 

“Yes.” He can't bring himself to stop. 

How could magic be bad? How could his mother be so wrong, so blind, so confused, when magic could undo everything? How were they all so wrong? Look at him! Look at him! He's good! He's good now, and it's so so so much. He rubs anything he can reach, in front of a stranger, but he can't bring himself to care. Not now, not with- 

Oh. That's- 

Mr. Graves notices the same moment he does and he offers a small smile. 

“Don't start apologizing for that.” Credence's eyes fly up. 

“I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't- it just felt-good. So good, and I- I swear I'm not a-” 

“Credence.” The voice is sharp and it shuts him up immediately. “It's a regular physiological reaction. Healing magic works in different waves for all of us. And think of all the pain that just left- Either way, I have a bathroom you can use to take care off yourself.” He points and Credence bolts. 

Worst case scenario? Worst case scenario. 

The door doesn't lock, either, so there's that. He's sure the man will give him privacy though, why wouldn't he? He shucks his pants down and -He's ruined his underwear. He takes those off too. 

He's hard, spectacularly so, and leaking already. He didn't even notice, he was to busy feeling his body, his unscarred body, and now as he stares at himself in the mirror, the lines of past damage are so thin he has to look for them. His hand curls around his erection gently.

He doesn't self abuse. He get's an erection sometimes, but he never, never touches himself, if his mother would ever find out, it would be horrendous to even think what she would do to him. But--

It was normal, wasn't it? Mr. Graves said it was, and his mother was wrong about magic, so- 

Maybe she was wrong about this too? 

He rubs up and down his cock slowly, the feeling as euphoric as the pain leaving him, it leaves him shuddering. He splays his other hand on his stomach, trying to feel as much of the unharmed skin there. Look at it! Look at it! Years of agony gone with a swipe of a hand and a whisper. Years of fear and pain and loneliness- 

He gives himself a twist and bites down on his lip. It feels good, and warmth spreads through him, a heat all the way up to the base of his skull. He thumbs at the thin slit at the head and that feels good too. Did every part of him feel good? His nerves were buzzing with something. He humps his hand and he's leaking even harder now. It makes it easier to move the skin. 

He pumps his fist back and forth, his other hand reaching to touch his back. Every part of him was hypersensitive, hyperaware and he has to bite down on his lip to keep from making noise. Or maybe he could make noise? Mr. Graves didn't seem to care if he was-

He thinks, for a second that he hears something on the other side of the door, a heavy breathing or fabric sliding but he's not sure. His heart is thumping so hard in his chest, especially when he moves his hips fully. He feels warm. Warm and soft and good. Good, so so good. The warmth grows inside of him, and he feels his muscles tighten a bit. 

He tightens his hold and moves his hand faster, dragging the skin back and forth, and every time he brushes the head of his cock he lets out a moan. A loud moan. He's sweaty, his hair is matted to his skin and he catches his own gaze in the mirror. 

Nothing special, not really, but this, if this was what nothing special looked like, he might have been alright with it. There's a glow about him, and he's not sure it's the magic or the sense of warmth. He feels like he's close to something, he feels it all the way up his spine. Tighter and tighter and tighter until his hips jolt forward and he spills onto the sink and onto his hand. 

The liquid is white, and he has this overwhelming desire to put it to his mouth but he turns on the sink and washes it away. He can only sin so much in one day, and that seemed outside acceptable. He hears something outside the door and realizes it's cracked open slightly. He must have nudged it in his fervor.

He washes his face and pulls on his ruined shorts and his pants over that. He can't help but think he looks different now, for whatever reason. He left his shirt in the other room so he takes a deep breathe and tries not to think about what just happened too much. 

“You alright?” He jumps. Mr. Graves is almost silent. 

“Yes.” Credence feels the blush up to his ears and he buttons his shirt up. “I'm sorry about-”

“It's my fault. I didn't think it would affect you as much as it did.” He points back at the tea. Credence takes his seat. “I think I mentioned before, that I need your help with something.” 

“Yes sir.” 

“I'm looking for someone. A child. A special child, Credence.” And your mother runs a foster home went unsaid. “Special, just like you. With a little magic in them.” 

“I don't think I-”

“Oh, trust me. You have magic in you. I can teach you.” Him, with magic? That would be- “I need to find the child and if you help me, Credence, if you help me I can teach you any magic you like. How to do what I did for you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, of course, of course, of course. 

“Someone who does all the things I asked you. Accidental magic happens all the time, Credence. You might not even notice it, but I saw it, I saw it in you. It's always easier to notice in someone else.” There's a hand on his. Credence meets Mr. Graves' eyes. He doesn't know what to do, but he feels warm again. The thumb rubs circles. It feels good. 

Touching himself was one thing, but this- warmth from another person was-

It was somehow so much more. 

“Do you know what they look like or where they are? Anything that could help?”

“They would be younger then ten. And nervous, I think. Yes, sickly maybe.” 

“That's almost every orphan in New York, sir. A girl or -”

“I don't know, Credence. But if you find them for me-”

“You'll teach me magic.” 

“I swear I will. I can even teach you a little bit before then. Some spells for after. Collateral.” There's a smile on his face again. Credence thinks he doesn't mind them that much even if they are odd. 

“I'll try.” 

“Of course you will. Because you're special Credence, you'll notice. Special people attract other special people. That's why we found each other, don't you think?” Maybe it's a magic rule, and if it's a magic rule then it's true. It has to be. 

It sounds so nice after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lesson 1: Kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is so nice!
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> ntbt'd

 

Mr. Graves waits on a bench a few steps up from where his mother was spreading the word of the NSPS. Credence passes out pamphlets to the people who walk up the stairs in a rush and that gives him a chance to shoot glances at the wizard.  
  
The man is reading a paper, and he seems to find something very funny about it. Credence can't catch any of the words. A man shoves him out of the way and Credence turns back to listen to his mother. No need to get in any trouble in public.  
  
Half way through her explanation on what a blight magic is to the world, Mr. Graves laughs loudly and all of them turn to stare at him. He raises a hand before lifting up the paper again in apology. Credence catches the title this time. Grindelwald Terrorizes Europe! it proclaims in big letter. Maybe it's magic stuff.  Mr. Graves doesn't seem European.  
  
When Mary Lou is done, she hands him a stack of pamphlets and walks off with Chastity. Mr Graves folded up his newspaper and walked over to him, a hand on the small of his back while he passed out leaflets to anyone who wanted them.  
  
“Are you hungry?” He whispers in his ear as he leans over his shoulder to lift a page up. He turns it over in his hands and chuckles in Credence's ear.  
  
“I-” Credence whispers. The other Second Salemer waves him off. Credence is out of pamphlets anyway.  
  
“When was the last time you ate?” Graves asks. He's so close to Credence. His chest pressed against his back. He doesn't want to admit that it was yesterday morning. Mary Lou didn't give him dinner last night. “You must be hungry.” Graves says when he doesn't answer. “Are you busy right now?”  
  
Credence shakes his head. Not right now, not immediately.  
  
“Let me treat you to lunch, Credence.” There's a hand on his shoulder and Mr. Graves is smiling at him.  
  
This seems like a bad idea. Like a bad idea he's going to get in trouble for. He remembers, out of no where, what he did the last time- when he was in Mr. Graves' apartment. He turns red and stares at the floor.  
  
“Did she hurt you again? Is that why you're so skittish, Credence? Do you want me to heal you again?”  
  
“Ye-” He covers his mouth. It's just such an automatic response for him, it's like he doesn't even have to think about the words.  
  
Yes, Yes, Yes he wants that again.  
  
He's been yearning for it.  
  
Mr. Graves smiles and throws a arm over his shoulder.  
  
It hurts.  
  
They walk to a restaurant that Credence has passed before but has never gone into. There's not a chance in hell they would let him. But with Mr. Graves, they walk right through the front door, not a single question aside from “for two?” and Credence feels drunk off of it. How is it so easy? The table is fancy, set by the window, and someone fills his glass with water before he even sits down. Someone even offers to take his coat!  
  
Mr. Graves orders for them, and then leans back in his chair and watches him. Credence doesn't know what to do with himself.  
  
“Any progress?” He finally asks after what must be a solid five minutes.  
  
“No, sir.”  
  
“That's alright.” Mr. Graves smiles and takes a sip of his water. “New York is a big city, right?”  
  
“Yes?”  Mr. Graves laughs. There's more silence, and  Mr. Graves has no intention of filling it, apparently. “Can I-” Credence doesn't know how to finish that. He doesn't know what he wants. “Can I ask you a question?” He settles on that.  
  
“You just did.” Mr. Graves laughs. Credence stares down at his lap. Maybe he wants to sit in silence. How old is Mr. Graves anyway? He looked forty, maybe fifty? Did wizards age differently? Maybe. He doesn't know how any of this is supposed to work. “Go ahead, Credence.” He looks back up. Mr. Graves is leaning forward.  
  
“Where are you from, sir?”  
  
“Oh? New York. Where are you from?” It's light and it's easy.  
  
“New York too, I think. I don't really know where my first mom was from, uh, New York makes sense though.”  
  
“You're adopted?” There's a look confusion, but only for a moment before the man smiles again. “I suppose the thought hasn't crossed my mind, but it makes sense, doesn't it.”  
  
“I guess.”  
  
“Was your mother a witch then?”  
  
“Ma thinks so. But-”  
  
“That would explain the magic I feel in you!” He leans forward even more so, reaches across the table and puts his hand on Credence's. Credence stares, his eyes must go wide. He feels hot.  
  
“Mr-”  
  
“And while I've got you...” He drags his hand up Credence's arm, and when Credence meets his eyes, he feels the pain drain out of him, just like last time, like it was nothing,  and like it was everything all at once.  
  
The waiter arrives while he's in the throws of his renewed bliss with the plates and then sets them down. He makes a face at Credence. Credence can't bring himself to care, because Mr. Graves is smiling  at him and there's food in front of him and his skin feels soft again. He has a few fingers stuck up both his sleeves. And he must look ridiculous.  
  
But it's good!  
  
It's so so so good!  
  
Is this what normal people feel like all the time? Not being weighted down by pain and just living in a state of floating happiness? No, obviously, Mary Lou is miserable, but-  
  
“You should eat.” Credence's eyes fly open. Right, he's embarrassing himself in public. There's meat in front of him, and oh, he's going to continue to embarrass himself. He picks up the knife and the fork. “Other way around.”  
  
“Sorry.” Credence swaps them around and starts cutting into it. Lamb, maybe? It smells good, and Credence is still floaty enough to be able to relish it unabashedly.  
  
“Let me do it.” Mr. Graves has a hand out. “It's alright, Credence, let me treat you.” Credence hands him the silverware, and it's real silverware! He feels embarrassed at  making a fuss out of that too, but he watches as Mr. Graves makes quick work of it. He hands him back the utensils. Credence skewers a piece and sticks it in his mouth.  
  
“Mm!”  
  
“I'm glad you like it.”  
  
“It's the best thing I've ever had!” He whispers. There's a heat to him, and he feels horrendously warm, but after a quick and, hopefully subtle, inspection, he's not in the same predicament as last time. Well, it wasn't all of his scars, just the new ones this time, so that- made sense.  
  
Why was he disappointed?  
  
It's an excuse, of course, but still-  
  
“What's wrong?”  
  
Well, he's not just going to admit it, is he?  
  
“Nothing, sorry sir.”  
  
“...” Mr. Graves leans back in his chair and takes a long drink from his glass. “If you need to take care of anything-”  
  
“I'm- no. No, sir.”  
  
“They have a restroom you can use-”  
  
“I don't- I'm- thank you.” He feels himself warm to the point of absurdity. His face is on fire, all the way up to his ears. Mr. Graves has a different smile on. The one that doesn't really reach his eyes.  
  
“There's nothing to be embarrassed about.”  
  
“There's nothing at all, sir.” He drinks his water and makes a point of not looking.  
  
“Hmm. Come on.” Mr. Graves stands up and wipes his mouth clean and walks in the direction of what must be the bathroom. Credence follows. When he gets into the washroom, the door shuts behind him, and he just catches the lock snap into place. When he looks up, Mr. Graves has his wand out.  
  
“There's a spell for that?”  
  
“There's a spell for everything.” But why not just turn the- Mr. Graves is much closer to him, all of a sudden. “Did I not get all of it?” The man asks, starring down at him.  
  
“I think you did, sir.” Credence's voice is small.  
  
“Well, that doesn't seem right. I just want to be thorough, Credence. Could you take your shirt off, just so I can be sure?” Credence does as he's asked. Mr. Graves looks him up and down with squinted eyes. “Suppose I did.” He blinks a couple of times.  
  
Credence stands there and waits.  
  
“Do you know why I'm looking for the child, Credence?”  
  
“You didn't say, sir.”  
  
“No, I didn't. Would you like to?” Mr. Graves turns him around and drags a hand down his spine. Credence shivers.  
  
“Yes- sir.” He stares at the door as Mr. Graves splays his fingers against his back.  
  
It's a soft touch.  
  
When did he take his gloves off?  
  
“The child is going to help me do something very important, Credence, in Europe. I had a bit of a disagreement with someone, and it's just to right a wrong, you see.”  
  
“When were you in Europe, sir?”  
  
“A few months ago, let's say. England.”  
  
“Isn't there-” Credence swallows. “Isn't there a- a problem, in Europe? Sir. It was on your- on your newspaper. Earlier.” There's nothing but silence, before Credence feels something soft press against his upper back, something scratchy below that.  
  
Did he-  
  
Did he just kiss him?  
  
No.  
  
No that-  
  
“You clever darling. You special boy.” It's right in his ear and Credence stands up bolt right, turning around. Mr. Graves pulls away with a lazy smile. “What would you like, Credence? As a reward for being so wonderful?”  
  
He did, he did kiss-  
  
Oh wow.  
  
He feels lightheaded again.  
  
It's the felt so so so soft and kind and warm and good and this isn't going to end well, in anyway. He wonders what those lips would feel like against his. He wonders if Mary Lou would hit him harder for this or the magic. He wonders what Mr. Graves must be thinking.  
  
Maybe this is a regular wizard thing, maybe he's blowing it out of proportion, maybe it's just more magic?  
  
Him special?  
  
“Another, sir.” Is all he says.  
  
Mr. Graves reaches forward, one hand on Credence's lower back, the other cupping his face. He pulls him forward, until he's standing toe to toe and he kisses him. It's just like the magic, Credence thinks, too much and not enough all at once. The man sucks on his lip, bites at it until Credence opens his mouth. There's a tongue that isn't his own licking at his teeth now, and he feels breathless.  
  
Helpless.  
  
Mr. Graves pulls him closer, until their chests are touching and now his left hand travels, up and down Credence's spine.  
  
yes  
  
yes  
  
yes  
  
He could do this for all of eternity and it wouldn't be enough. His skin is on fire, and his hair is matting down with sweat.  Mr Graves pulls away and it must have effected him more then he expected because he seems to be... vibrating?  
  
Mr. Graves looks a little different too, and he smiles with too many teeth all of a sudden. There's something different, but it's gone in an instant. Credence can't even find whatever it was that bothered him in the first place.    
  
“Was that good, Credence?” He can't even form the words so he nods. Mr. Graves laughs again, and helps him put his shirt back on. “Lets go eat before the food gets cold.”  
  
He nods and follows him out of the bathroom after Mr. Graves opens the door with a wave of his hand.  
  
Credence watches with wide eyes and a tiny smile.  
  
He wonders when he's going to be able to do that. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to everyone who has shown interest in this!
> 
> I hope this was worth the wait!
> 
> <3
> 
> ntbt'd

If the winters in New York were unpleasant, the summers were intolerable.

Credence is sweating through his church clothes, the building is filled with people, as it's supposed to be, but it doesn't help the heat any. It's a sort of miserable damp heat as well, the kind where just breathing is difficult. He's want nothing more then to just were his under clothes and jump in the ocean, but that's not happening.

Mr. Graves sits in the back of the church, a lazy smile on his face, just starring forward.

At him.

Mr. Graves doesn't come around a lot, per say, but he's become a noted presence in Credence's life. Credence doesn't mind him being there. More than that, Credence strongly prefers him being there. He's... good.

He's good.

Credence knows Mr. Graves isn't listening to the sermon. He almost never does, Credence doesn't know why he bothers coming inside if he could just stay outside in the shade where an occasional breeze could cool him off.

It helps him think, apparently. About what, Mr. Graves never said, but apparently it's more calming then the office. He stares at Credence and he thinks, and the longer Credence looks at him the more it seems like he's completely unaffected by the weather. Maybe there's some kind of spell to do that too.

There's a spell for almost everything, it seems. Credence likes watching Mr. Graves work. He doesn't get to see it a lot but when he does he thinks it very pretty. He likes magic. It makes him so happy. It's like the hole in his life he didn't know he had but now he finally gets to fill.

Service lets out an hour later. His clothes stick to him and his hair is matted down. He slips out as quickly as he can and he's so unhappy. The heat smarts against his wounds, and he's gotten more of them recently. Mary Lou is unhappy about him spending time on his own.

With Mr. Graves.

“You alright Credence? You look miserable.”

“No sir.” He's not miserable. Not anymore, at least.

“How are things going then?”

“Good sir.”

“So you have a lead then? On the child?”

Oh.

Right.

“Maybe.” Credence talks with out thinking. “It's not for sure, but..”

“Oh, excellent! Excellent Credence!” He takes him by the hand and walks him to his apartment swiftly.

It's almost cold inside. Magic! What can't it do?

He's gotten used to Mr. Graves' apartment by now. It's pretty big, actually the more he thinks about it. Mr. Graves pushes him onto a couch and Credence goes readily. It's a lush sofa, comfortable and soft under him.

“Tea?” In this heat?

“I'm alright, sir.” He stops moving around and turns to look at Credence.

“Any pain?” There's the smile, the dangerous one on his face.

“Just the usual amount, sir.”

“Credence.” He says. He sounds put upon all of a sudden. He crosses the space between them and get's on his knees in front of him. Mr. Graves spreads Credence's legs and Credence feels hot again. “There shouldn't be a usual amount. You deserve so much better, special boy.”

He's very believable like this.

“Sir.” Credence says, in place of anything else.

“Hands.” He pats Credence's knee. Credence's eyes must be the size of dinner plates now. He puts his shaking, why are they shaking, hands into Mr. Graves' expecting arms. Mr. Graves brings his hands up to his lips and whispers what ever spell he uses.

Credence doesn't know why he has to whisper it.

He can't remember what he was thinking about because a wash of coolness crashes into him, almost immediately afterwards. Mr. Graves watches him with intensity. While Credence is floating Mr. Graves reached for the buttons of Credence's shirt and Credence nods before Mr. Graves pulls it off of him.

He says another spell and Credence feels clean all of a sudden, like his outside feels clean because his insides are still nebulous and lost to him. He feels so good. It's stronger then last time, more like the first time, which is weird because he doesn't have as many whip marks to fix this time.

“How are we doing?” Mr. Graves asks.

“Good.” Very good.

Ecstatic.

“You need help with anything then?”

He doesn't know. Words are kind of hard to form right now. He shakes his head in place of anything else to do. Mr. Graves returns to the space between his legs.

“I want to reward you, Credence. For finding the child.”

“Maybe.” Hmm.

“For maybe finding the child, as you like. You've been so good, sweet boy, so good, so dutiful. Would you like a reward Credence?”

“I haven't deserved it.” Talking felt like moving his tongue through molasses.

“Oh, your just the dream come true, aren't you.” Is that irritation? If it is, it's distant, far away from the situation. Credence can't function correctly right now. His brain is dizzy. He feels light, like he's floating. “Let me take care of you, Credence.”

Credence nods. He would like that. He likes it when Mr. Graves takes care of him. He likes being taken care of. He likes him.

The sound of a zipper being undone makes him focus on what is happening around him. It's a kind of grounding sound. He focuses on Mr. Graves undoing his zipper, pushing his underwear to the side and pulling his cock out of his pants.

“Wait-” He mumbles, pulls away, it doesn't work out all that well, he just pushes himself into the couch but Mr. Graves stops. He moves a step back and keeps his hands up.

“What's wrong Credence?”

“No, it's not- you're not- uh- this is-”

“Relax, Credence. I won't do anything you don't want me to.”

“It's a bit much, isn't it?” His voice is high and his eyes are wide. This seems to wrong, all of a sudden.

“I don't think so. It's nothing serious, I just want to make you feel as happy as you made me.”

“I'm already happy, Mr. Graves.” He says.

“Alright.” He stands up and turns around. “Nothing you don't want, Credence.”

He wants though. He wants Mr. Graves to see that he wants it, just not- not so soon, not right now, not- he doesn't know. He has no idea what he's meant to do. Years of church and Mary Lou and implications hang on his head like a noose.

“I don't know what I want.” He says.

“No, you wouldn't would you?” Mr. Graves moves closer back to him, a hand on his knee again. “I just want to make you happy.”

“I-”

“Let's try it. Hmm. A little bit. If you like it, we can do it again some time. If you don't tell me and I won't bring it up again.”

“A-” He feels a little sick. “A little bit.”

“A little bit.” Mr. Graves smiles and swallows him whole.

The warm, wet, heat of Mr. Graves' mouth makes his head spin all over again. Mr. Graves pulls back before putting his hand on the base and licking at the head, slowly in small circles, drags his tongue along the slit slowly before beginning to bob his head. Credence feels himself grow hard under the ministrations and it, feels like Heaven's Gates have opened in front of him.

He doesn't know what to do with his hands, but Mr. Graves leans up to grab one of his hands put place it in his own hair. Credence spares a soft thought about how soft Mr. Graves' hair was. It's easy to grasp it and he holds on.

Mr. Graves' other hand rests on his knee, rubbing small circles into place there. It feels so so so good. Whole and all encompassing. How did he live this long with out-

Mr. Graves does something with his tongue and he dips forward, almost folding in half over him. The heat inside him rises and rises and rises until he makes a noise in the back of his throat and spills. Mr Graves takes it in stride, slowing down and then stoping. He feels him swallow around him before pulling off of him.

“Good?” He asks, licking his lips.

“Mmhm.”

“Find the child for me, and I'll show you something that makes that look like nothing in comparison.”

Credence nods. Mr. Graves cleans him up quickly after that and hands him a shirt. It's not his shirt, his shirt was white, this one is a light grey.

"You can have that one while I clean yours. It should fit you just fine."

Mr. Graves leaves the room for a few minutes and in that time Credence pushes the grey shirt into his nose.

It smells like him.

It smells like him and feels like him and when he puts it on, it's like a hug.

He's glad.

He's so glad.

**Author's Note:**

> [iamalivenow](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) is me on tumblr, come say hi, I'm nice, I swear. 
> 
> I take requests there!
> 
> Comments always appreciated!
> 
> If you make anything, please tell me!
> 
> ✧*｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و✧*｡


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